


Because Harry's Watching

by Writcraft



Series: Tomlinshaw: 50 Reasons [3]
Category: BBC Radio 1 RPF, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Angst, Bad Decisions, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Bottom Harry, Bottom Louis, Boys In Love, First Time, Hand Jobs, Implied Switching, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Rough Sex, Threesome - M/M/M, Under-negotiated Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-12-22 10:00:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11965059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writcraft/pseuds/Writcraft
Summary: It seems like a good idea at the time, but when his past and his possible future collide, Louis can't help but feel as if he's made a terrible decision.





	Because Harry's Watching

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jiksa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jiksa/gifts).



> Written for the Bring Back the Porn Challenge on Insanejournal, this is another one shot in my Tomlinshaw: 50 Reasons Series for the lovely [jiksax](http://jiksax.tumblr.com/) who left me a number of awesome prompts. I should note for those here for the Larry or the Gryles, that this is part of a **Tomlinshaw** fic series so that's the dominant pairing.
> 
> I'm still collecting prompt 'reasons' for the series, so feel free to come and chat to me on tumblr [@writsgrimmyblog](https://writsgrimmyblog.tumblr.com/).

Louis thinks he should have expected this. It’s apt, that this is how it ends. With Nick looking shagged out and happy, Harry whispering something in Nick’s ear and Louis feeling lonelier than ever. 

That noise in his head is back again. It’s discordant and loud, slicing through his brain and bringing memories of Harry tumbling back. Louis can still feel the scratch in his throat from all the yelling – the way his voice would shake and tremble when he tried to sing for days afterwards. He can still remember the clenched fists, the _fuck you, fuck you, fuck you_ and the tears Harry was never allowed to see. He nearly hit Harry, that night. Shoved him right up against the wall and shouted in his face until Harry pushed back and it was all rough and tumble and one last, soul-crushing kiss. 

Louis watches the way Harry’s hair curls just over his forehead and wonders what he’s saying to Nick. 

_Nick_.

Louis knows every freckle on Nick’s body. Every crease where his smile leaves laughter lines. Louis counted them once and wondered how many of them belonged to Louis and how many belonged to Harry. There’s not much that makes Louis feel better than the warmth which curls in his stomach when he makes Nick laugh. 

Nick was just starting to feel like safety and home.

When Louis watches Nick smile at Harry, he wonders if Nick was ever really safe at all.

*

The thing with Harry takes Louis by surprise.

It blindsides him when they’re playfighting over the remote and Harry’s laughter _puff, puffs_ against Louis’ cheeks. He’s so young. They both are. They don’t know what the fuck they’re doing half the time, catapulted into a world that’s sharp and unfamiliar. It’s easy to get lost in fame. Easy to lose who you are in the crowds of people screaming your name.

 _Louis Tomlinson. Tommo_.

Sometimes Louis feels like he’s not a real person anymore. Like his name belongs to somebody else and inside his chest there’s something fighting to get out. He clings onto Harry, because he understands. He’s also funny and ridiculous and Louis loves him to death. Loves him when he lets Louis watch the footie and doesn’t try to steal the remote, that is. 

“I hate you,” Louis says. It sounds fond and a lot like Louis doesn’t hate Harry at all. 

“No you don’t.” Harry smiles and it’s broad and bright.

The kiss comes all at once and the only thing Louis can think about as Harry huffs a gasp of surprise into his mouth is that Harry tastes like apples.

*

They don’t exactly go for candles and mood-music the first time they have sex.

Niall, Liam and Zayn give them some space, not that there’s much space anywhere on the tour bus. Everyone else has gone off to stretch their legs and buy lunch. All Louis can think about is the way Harry’s hand felt when the heel of his palm found Louis’ cock after a heated snogging session the night before. He couldn’t give a fuck about lunch. He just wants to get his mouth on Harry. Strip him bare and taste every inch of his skin.

“We’re going for a long walk,” Niall says. He sounds like he’s trying not to laugh.

“Yeah. For about an hour.” Zayn checks his watch and shoots Liam a look. Liam smirks.

“An hour?” Harry knows what they’re doing. He speaks slowly, around a smile. He sucks his thumb into his mouth to get rid of a stray bit of chocolate from his Twix. It makes Louis’ stomach twist and his throat gets dry. 

“Off you go then, lads.” Louis gives Niall a shove towards the door and they leave in a jostling group, laughing and cat-calling. Louis thought it might be weird for them, him and Harry. It’s weird for Louis, after all. Difficult not to get sharp and angry when interviewers poke around for details about _Larry Stylinson_ or when Harry’s linked to another one of his models. Louis hates that, most of all. Perhaps it’s because he knows Harry still has the odd shag, sometimes. They’ve got some boundaries – never the same person twice, no going on proper dates – but they’re not kidding themselves that it’s _always and forever_ , no matter how much Louis wants it to be.

They go to Louis’ bunk and there’s a half-eaten bag of Wotsits on the bed, which Harry makes Louis throw in the bin. The bed isn’t made and there are socks and boxers discarded at the foot of it. Harry doesn't seem too bothered. He pulls off his t-shirt and stretches out, giving Louis a grin.

“Want to get off?”

Louis does. He really, really does. They still haven’t quite mastered the art of kissing because they’re too horny not to make it all _hard, fast, quickly, quietly_ and their teeth clack together. Louis thinks he probably uses too much tongue and Harry makes odd grunting sounds which should be off-putting, but they’re not. Louis doesn’t even know how they’re going to do this. Doesn’t know who’s going to do the fucking when they finally get there. He pushes that to the back of his mind because that's definitely not happening now, on the tour bus in the world's tiniest bed with no lube and no time. Not to mention it’s all Louis can do not to come in his pants as he grinds down against Harry. Today isn't for that. It's for _something_ but not that. Whatever it is, it's all hard, breathless, rushed and bloody perfect.

They undress, inelegantly. Harry still has a sock on and Louis doesn't quite manage to get his t-shirt off. Harry doesn't seem too fussed. He crooks one of his legs and pushes his hands into Louis’ hair, watching him with soulful eyes and a shit-eating grin on his face. He’s full of contradictions, that Harry Styles. He’s also mostly hair and cock. Louis knows Harry’s hung because Harry’s got no problem with being naked, but it’s a bit much seeing him up close. A bit like it’s actually happening for real as opposed to the sheltered snogs on the sofa at home that sometimes feel as though they happened by accident. 

Going down on Harry is a bit different from going down on a girl. A lot different. It's less soft, less wet and less intuitive somehow, even though Louis feels like it should be easier because he’s got the same bits. He refuses to be intimidated by Harry's dick and takes a moment to remember some of the best blow jobs he's received. He's got this. He knows what feels good, knows what doesn’t. He decides to go with the good bits he remembers. The steadying use of the hand at the base of Harry’s cock. The slow tease of tongue against the slit which tastes salty and sharp. Louis licks his lips and gets them damp. He knows to keep his teeth from scraping against Harry, not that it’s always terrible when that happens. It depends on the context. A bit of pain can be just on the right side of kinky if someone knows what they’re doing.

Louis feels a bit daft stretched around Harry and it’s not long before his jaw starts to ache. Saliva pools in his mouth and he almost sounds like he’s slurping, the saliva escaping from the corners of his mouth. He pulls back to get his breath and rub his jaw for a moment. He gets back to it when Harry reaches for him, breathless and pleading. Despite the aching jaw and the fact he knows he definitely needs more practice, Louis likes it. Harry’s skin smells of soap and _Harry_ and it’s warm and familiar. It makes Louis so hard, the heavy weight of Harry on his tongue and the way Harry shifts, bucks and tugs. He plays with Harry’s balls and when Harry says his name it sounds like someone else, it’s so rough and unsteady. Louis pulls back when Harry gives him warning and he jacks Harry off, the warmth of Harry’s climax spilling over his fist. He licks his finger while Harry watches him.

"Like it?" Harry grins at Louis, eyebrows raised.

Louis pulls a face. “I’ve tasted better.”

“Hey.” Harry frowns and he looks offended. “That’s not very nice.”

“Sorry.” Louis stretches out next to Harry. His cheeks get hot. “Do me, then?”

“If you like.” Harry moves over Louis and helps him get comfy. He shoves his hand under Louis’ t-shirt and palms at his stomach, his flesh warm and his hands large on Louis’ body. His hair’s all fucked up and he’s still completely starkers apart from that one sock, pulled up on his calf. Louis thinks about telling him to take it off, but he doesn’t really care. He’s not planning to look at Harry’s feet when he’s getting his dick sucked. “Okay?”

“Yeah. Whatever.” Louis sucks in a breath. “We haven’t got all day, Haz.”

Harry gets on with it. He gets a determined look and he spends a lot of time treating Louis’ cock like it’s some kind of lollipop. There’s something faintly ridiculous about it. Something about the way he licks Louis and then chokes as he tries to take him in too deep that makes a laugh gurgle up in Louis’ throat. It doesn’t quite come out though, because as ridiculous as it might be, it also feels _good_. It’s endearing, seeing Harry take the task of getting Louis off so seriously. It’s like another part of their adventure. They talk a lot about adventures. About suddenly having more money than you know what to do with, dealing with press, publicity, fans and fame. The way it feels when you stand up in front of a crowd and they sing your words right back at you. Reminiscing about the X-Factor and the swooping dejection followed by an intense and dreamlike elation.

Doing this with Harry is just another adventure. Something new. Something they’re doing together, for the first time. Something different.

Louis throws an arm over his eyes and drinks in every sensation. He’s perspiring slightly and he can’t stop the moans which leave his parted lips as Harry gets more enthusiastic and confident with each new swipe of his tongue and slick slide of stretched lips over Louis’ prick. It doesn’t take Louis long to get close. He’s quicker than Harry, probably because he was already right on the edge by the time Harry got started. He yanks at Harry’s hair, but of course Harry has to try to swallow. Of course he can’t just slide back and finish Louis off with his hand. He’s always got to be the best at everything, even this. 

When they finish, Harry wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and he leans in for a kiss. “It’s not that bad.”

“I’ll have to try again.” Louis kisses Harry back and they take a moment to catch their breath.

“I’m starving,” Harry says.

“Make a sandwich, then.” Louis nudges Harry and watches him sit up and pull on his clothes.

They eat cheese and onion toasties and wank each other off again before the others get back and tease them, mercilessly.

*

It’s so different with Nick. They don’t have the fond familiarity of friendship, for a start and there’s no hopeful promise of forever. It begins with Louis cheating on his girlfriend and Nick’s already spent half the night snogging someone else.

It shouldn’t bother Louis. He barely knows Nick and what he does know, he doesn’t particularly like. He doesn’t like Nick’s easy friendship with Harry for a start and he’s always wondered about their past. He’s not blind. He can tell Nick adores Harry and suspects the feeling’s mutual. Not that he really knows much about Harry, these days. Things went sour a long time before tonight and they’re just about back to an uneasy truce and polite civility.

“I’m off.” Nick leans close to Louis, his hand on Louis’ arm. Despite the fact they're hardly friends, Nick made a point of speaking to Louis. His breath smells like wine and his lips brush too near to Louis’ skin for comfort. “Got to go jogging tomorrow.”

“As if you’ll be up for jogging.” Louis downs his shot and gives Nick a look. “Idiot.”

“I could cancel it?” Nick gives Louis a grin and eyes him, up and down. “If you want to keep going?”

Louis’ throat gets dry. “Got a girlfriend, mate.”

“Serious?” Nick asks.

“Not really.” She’s not Eleanor. Not someone Louis thinks he’s going to marry. That all went spectacularly to shit, in the end. Kim’s more of a rebound. Louis knows it and he thinks she probably does, too. Half the time he’s not even sure she likes him. 

Nick slides his phone from his pocket and taps out a quick message. Louis can’t stop looking at his fingers.

“Cancelled.”

Louis orders another couple of shots.

He reckons he’s going to need them.

*

The first time with Nick is blissfully rough, practiced and completely different from the things Louis remembers about being with Harry. Nick knows what he’s doing and he’s got no problem taking charge. If anyone took charge before, it was Louis. With girlfriends and with Harry. Not to mention he and Harry learned together until Louis knew exactly what made Harry tick. Louis doesn't have a clue what unexpected parts of Nick's body might react well to being kissed or whether Nick likes it slow or fast, hard or soft. Not to mention there’s something about Nick that makes _Louis_ feel different. There's a strange ache, Louis can’t explain. Something that tugs deep within him and he can’t stop thinking filthy thoughts about doing the most demeaning things, while Nick takes what he wants from Louis. He doesn't think he's ever wanted to fall to his knees or be pushed and pulled quite so badly.

Like now. His arms stretched high above his head, Louis lets Nick hold him in place. He responds eagerly to Nick’s deep, searching kisses as they take Louis apart one by one. It feels like Louis’ in a dream. As if he’s going to wake up sticky in his pyjamas with his lips still tingling from the memory of Nick Grimshaw making him lose his fucking mind.

Despite the rough beginning, they make it to bed surrounded by flickering candles and endless piles of pillows which cushion every flex, twist and tangle. That’s another unexpected thing that makes Louis’ heart drum in his chest and his brain melt. The way Nick can manhandle Louis and turn him this way and that. Nick also smells good. Different to Harry but _good_. He smells expensive and fresh and he has a way of smiling with such warmth it takes Louis by surprise. He’s gobby, too. No surprise there, really, because he does talk for a living. But when they’re in bed Nick talks in a different way. He talks _dirty_ and says the kind of things Louis always thought would probably be awkward to say out loud.

“You’re so hard for me, darling.” Nick’s hand slides over Louis’ cock and he places a hot kiss against Louis’ jaw. “Going to let me finger you?”

“Shut up, Nicholas.” The name spills out unexpectedly, but it feels right somehow. _Nicholas_. Louis likes how it sounds on his tongue. Not that he’d ever say so out loud, but he also likes the _darling_. It makes his body warm. 

“I bet you’re tight.” Nick reaches for the lube with one swift motion and he nudges Louis onto his hands and knees. “Christ, look at your arse. It’s fucking _fantastic_.”

“Pillock.” Louis buries his face in the pillow, his words muffled. 

He doesn’t get a chance to say much else because Nick holds him open and drips cold lube against the more sensitive parts of Louis’ skin. He slides a finger into Louis, working it deep inside his body and pulling back slowly. He takes his time, working up to two and stroking Louis until he’s practically begging to be fucked.

“So impatient.” Nick gives Louis’ arse a light swat and it makes Louis suck in a sharp breath. “Really?” Nick sounds amused. He slides a hand into Louis’ hair and tugs his head back, breathing into Louis’ ear. “Can give you a proper spanking next time. Take you over my knee.”

“There’s not going to be a next time,” Louis says. His voice shakes because Nick’s offering something Louis didn’t even realise he wanted, but now the idea’s in his head he can’t stop thinking about it.

But there is a next time.

And a time after that, and that.

*

Louis realises he’s in love with Nick at exactly the wrong moment.

He realises he’s in love with Nick when Harry whispers something that makes Nick laugh and Louis is too far away from Nick. They're in bed, the three of them, and Louis can see Nick – right up close – enjoying someone else.

 _Mine_ , Louis wants to shout. _Stop, stop, he’s mine. Not yours. Please don’t take him from me_.

It seemed like a good idea, at first. Getting drunk and having an unexpected moment with the three of them all together.

Louis even thinks he might have instigated it, with his kissing and his flirting. Thinks he might have wanted Harry to be jealous, might have wanted to push Nick’s buttons. Louis knows how to push Nick. He knows his weak spots, knows his triggers. 

Louis supposes he only has himself to blame.

*

“You’re handsy tonight.” Nick puts out his cigarette and leans against the wall, watching Louis finish smoking. “Think Harold’s feeling a bit left out.”

“Let him.” Louis pulls a face and he bends to put out his cigarette, hoping Nick can’t see the heat rising in his cheeks as he keeps his head down. “Maybe he wants to join in.”

“Louis.” Nick’s voice gets clipped. “Not funny.”

“Not trying to be.” Louis straightens up, eyes on Nick again. “You think he’s fit, don’t you?”

Nick shrugs and looks away, his brow furrowed. “It’s science. Everyone thinks he’s fit. Because of the bone structure.”

Louis rolls his eyes. That’s a yes, then. “We used to fuck, Harry and me.”

Nick looks at Louis and narrows his eyes. “Bit more than that.”

Louis swallows, because _of course_ Nick already knew. Of course Nick’s already had the whole story from someone who isn’t Louis.

“Why didn’t you tell me you knew?” 

“It’s not like you ever mentioned it.” Nick glances at the half-open patio door. “We need to get back. Are you going to stop being a knob?”

“Probably not.” Louis slides his hand into Nick’s, stopping him from going in. His chest is tight and he’s slightly dizzy. “Would you be into it?”

Nick still doesn’t look sure. He moves the bit of Louis’ fringe that constantly falls into his eyes and rubs his thumb against Louis’ cheek, cupping his jaw. He looks into Louis’ eyes as if he’s trying to find the answer to a question he hasn’t asked out loud. “Would you?”

“Might be.” Louis’ voice wavers and he swallows. “Yeah. I mean, yeah. Why not?”

This time when they get inside and Louis kisses Nick in front of Harry, Nick doesn’t try to stop it.

*

“I’ve wanted this for ages,” Harry mumbles. He looks so different with his short hair and he takes his time, working over every inch of Nick.

Louis doesn’t want to know that. He doesn’t want to know that Harry’s wanted Nick, because part of him has always worried that Nick wants Harry too.

“Just for fun though, yeah?” Nick says.

“Yeah,” Harry replies. “Just for fun.”

Louis can’t help but notice neither of them sound too sure.

*

“You should fuck Harry,” Louis says. “I’ve fucked both of you before. You’ve both fucked me. So you should do that. To him.”

“I should, should I?” Nick gives Louis a strange look and then he focuses on Harry. The look he gives Nick is like the look he used to give Louis. Like it's a warm summer's day and he's basking in the sun. Like he trusts Nick to keep him safe. “What do you want, Harold?”

The affectionate name sets Louis on edge. Nick sounds so fond. So much like he’s half in love already. Louis knows what that’s like. Harry’s very easy to fall in love with.

“You,” Harry says. “Please, Grim? Like…so I’ll feel it.”

Nick strokes his fingers down over Harry’s belly, making him squirm. “You’re dead kinky, Styles.”

“Just a bit.” Harry pushes his hands up over his head and holds them there, his eyes never leaving Nick’s. “Quite like being tied up.”

“Oh.” Nick glances at Louis, eyebrows raised. “Might have given me a heads up.”

Louis swallows, shaking his head. “Didn’t know.”

“It’s new. It was after.” Harry turns his head to the side, his gaze steady as he meets Louis’ eyes. “Don’t have to do that if it’s weird.”

“It’s not.” Louis shakes his head. “We should.” He shuffles closer and Nick’s hand works into his hair, rubbing the nape of his neck. He can breathe again, now they’re connected. _In, out_. He counts slowly to five in his head. It helps. “I like it too. With Nick.”

“Yeah,” Harry says, as if he already knows.

Louis wonders how many times they’ve talked about him and hates himself for being jealous of the years of conversation he’s missed.

*

Watching Nick fuck Harry is like being ripped open – like being turned inside out. Louis tries to get into it and makes some excuse about wanting to watch and wank, rather than be part of it. Nick tries to protest and Harry looks unsure, but Louis can't help but hit the self-destruct button.

"The point of a threesome is three people being into it. Together."

Louis rolls his eyes at Nick. "You sound like you've had a lot of them."

"One or two." Nick looks unphased.

"I want to watch. You look good together," Louis says. It's not a complete lie. Harry looks good and Nick looks good. Louis likes watching them both. He just hates seeing them _together_. It's like the half-lies he tells Nick sometimes when he's trying to pretend he's happy to keep things casual and undefined 

Louis sits close enough to watch Nick's smile and Harry's response. They look so close. So connected. Nick's affection for Harry has never been more stupidly obvious. He keeps making sure Harry's okay, talking to him in whispers and cut-off sentences which are stifled by errant bursts of pleasure. Louis know what Nick looks like when he's lost in a moment and with Harry, Nick loses himself completely. Harry's no different. He reaches for Nick and pulls him close in a way that feels more _looking into one another's eyes and declaring his undying_ than a one-off fuck. Harry still makes those stupid, perfect grunting sounds and it makes Louis ache for the old Harry. He misses the boy who didn’t know how to give blow jobs or how to wear designer clothes. It’s like there’s a ghost in the room with Louis – the ghost of the past and the ghost of what might have been. Because there’s that, too. The future. The tendrils of possibility shaped by the nights Louis spent with Nick and his dogs. The hope and familiarity created by ease of routine. The way Nick held Louis that one night when he started crying for no good reason, just because he remembered people he’d lost and he was scared because he didn’t know what his future looked like. Louis still remembers the way the wretched, ugly sobs he tried to choke back sounded in the quiet room. Still remembers the warmth of Nick’s arms and whispers that felt like they meant something.

Louis watches Nick take Harry and every slick sound and choke of breath sends another dagger through Louis’ heart. 

By the time it’s over, Louis wonders why he always takes fragile things and smashes them into smithereens.

*

“Louis.” Nick’s voice cuts through the roar in Louis’ head. It’s sharp and he sounds worried. “You stupid idiot, Christ.” Nick’s arms keep Louis tethered and he doesn’t realise he’s shaking until Nick pulls him back against his chest and holds him close.

“I-” Louis can’t get the words out. Can’t make himself say _it’s okay if you want to be with Harry_ because it isn’t. It’s not. He can’t shout when he asked for this in the first place. Everything’s numb.

“Shush.” Nick clucks his tongue. He murmurs something to Harry and the bed dips. A cool flannel on Louis’ face makes him blink his eyes open. He’s staring at Harry, who looks so like the Harry that Louis used to spend endless nights kissing, fucking and fighting with.

“Stupid fucking idea,” Louis says. His words leave him in a rush, broken at the edges. 

“Yeah.” Harry’s eyes raise, meet Nick’s and then he’s staring straight into Louis’ soul again. “Didn’t think it would be, like, just me and Grim. Thought you might be, err…doing stuff.”

“I was.” Louis shrugs. Was he? He can’t remember. He thinks he’s already trying to block the memory of the last few hours out. He remembers Nick’s fingers pressing into his neck, soothing him. He remembers that. 

Harry leans forward and closes the distance between them. His lips are soft and warm and they taste like the past. The horny, teenage kisses are long gone. This kiss is like the ones they shared on a sleepy Sunday morning or just after sex. Slow and tender, just kissing for the sake of kissing instead of kissing to get somewhere else. Something stirs inside Louis and despite the fact he’s pretty sure he nearly broke his brain watching Nick and Harry fuck, there’s something so familiar about the way Harry kisses his body responds. Nick’s still warm and he smells like _Nick_. He whispers something in Louis’ ear and for one terrible, brilliant moment, Louis thinks it might be _I love you_. He knows it wasn't, but he pretends just long enough to make things feel okay for a bit.

He pushes his hands into Harry’s hair and deepens the kiss, pressing back against Nick at the same time. Nick slides his hand over Louis’ cock and strokes him as he kisses Harry, the press of Nick’s lips against Louis’ neck sending arousal coursing through him. Harry kisses Louis through his climax which spills between them, covering Nick’s fingers. Harry kisses Louis again, afterwards, before sitting back on his heels and wiping his face with the flannel he got for Louis. 

“I missed being your friend,” Harry says, eventually. He gives Louis a half-smile. “I didn’t mean to fuck it all up.”

“You didn’t.” Louis shrugs and he shifts out of Nick’s arms so they can all see each other. He wants to see Nick’s face. Wants to know if Nick’s going to choose Harry. “No more than I did. We’re doing fine now. Reckon it might have been a good call in the end, yeah? Doing our own thing?”

“Yeah.” Harry looks at his hands. “I’m not really…relationships. It’s not what I want. Never was.”

“I know,” Louis says. Part of him always did. Relationships are all Louis. He’s hardly been without someone since Harry. He likes a casual fuck as much as the next person, but he doesn’t crave it if he’s got someone else on the regular. He craves the person who makes him less restless. He’d give up every last one-night stand for that. Harry’s different. He likes new experiences. Likes throwing himself in head first and moves so fast and furiously it leaves people breathless in his wake. It’s not impulsive. Everything Harry does is carefully considered and controlled, but it’s always, always moving. Sometimes Louis just needs to be still.

Louis doesn’t know about Nick. They haven’t really had the talk and he’s been too afraid to ask. He meets Nick’s gaze, his cheeks getting hot when Nick studies him. “You think I’m a tit, don’t you?”

Nick snorts with laughter. “Obviously.”

“You’re shit at relationships too.”

“Yep.” Nick sounds cheerful about it. “Three months is the longest I’ve managed.”

“Until Lou,” Harry chips in. “That’s been nearly a year.”

“That’s not-”

“We’re not-”

Nick and Louis start speaking at the same time and Harry laughs. He moves off the bed and grabs a towel from Nick’s drawers. It doesn’t make Louis as jealous as it should that Harry knows every inch of Nick’s house. It’s a bit late for that. 

“You’re a pair of idiots. I’m going to have a shower.”

He whistles and the bathroom door clicks behind him. 

Nick and Louis stare at one another and Louis wonders why it’s impossible to find the words he wants to say.

*

They fight on Tuesday, fuck on Wednesday and by the time it gets to Thursday, it’s been seven days since Harry and Louis hasn’t left Nick’s side.

He should definitely go home soon. He’s running out of clothes to borrow, for a start. There’s no chance he’s going to try and squeeze himself into Nick’s skinny jeans and because Nick’s a pretentious hipster twat, he doesn’t have nearly enough suitable clothing for Louis to steal.

“I should go home, soon.” Louis tries to grab the remote from Nick, because the footie’s on. Nick holds it just out of reach.

“Be my guest.” Nick wriggles out of the way of Louis’ grasping hands and Pig barks at them both, thinking it’s a game. It’s not. Louis is deadly serious about his football. “Let me watch that documentary in peace.”

“It’s about penguins.” Louis makes another grab for the remote. “I’m not sitting here learning about fucking penguins. _Champions League_ , Nicholas. I’ll take you to a zoo or something. I’ll buy you ten penguins.”

“You can’t just buy someone a penguin, are you mental?” Nick looks horrified. He tackles Louis back onto the sofa and _oh_ that changes things a bit. “You can give me something else if you like.”

“After.” Louis can’t help the fact he sounds a bit breathless. Nick has that effect on him. He’s already getting hard just thinking about later. “It’s already started.”

“Better make it good if you’re making me watch footie _and_ making me wait.” Nick’s voice goes low and husky and he trails damp kisses along Louis’ neck. It makes him shiver and football doesn’t seem quite as important anymore. 

“I will. Whatever you want.” Louis pushes Nick back before things get out of hand. 

“Fine.” Nick looks smug. He hands Louis the remote. They watch the football for about five minutes before Nick shifts closer, slinging an arm around Louis’ shoulder. His voice is slow and teasing when he murmurs in Louis’ ear. “I’ve decided what I want.”

“Oh?” Louis tries not to make it sound as if he cares. 

“I’m going to rim you first. Really get you begging for it, just the way you like. Then I’m going to use the paddle. Use some toys. Fuck your mouth.”

“ _Fuck_.” Louis bites back a groan.

“That’s the idea.” Nick moves away, leaving Louis cold and bereft. He can’t concentrate on the football anymore. All he can think about is an afternoon shagging.

After ten minutes Louis switches from the football to the penguin documentary, because Nick looks bored and Louis feels guilty.

Five minutes later, Nick’s tongue is in Louis’ mouth and the telly’s on mute.

It’s another three days before Louis finally makes it home to pack a large enough suitcase that Nick gives him loads of shit and threatens to let Pig eat his Yeezy’s.

_~Fin~_


End file.
